


Rooftop Gasoline Apologies

by elwon



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Arson as a romantic gesture, Austen Quotes, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Identity Porn, Jason was never adopted by Bruce, M/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 19:38:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18350339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwon/pseuds/elwon
Summary: Jason's mark is so vague as to be useless, and if everyone else could see it they’d understand that without needing to ask. It covers his entire left palm and the underside of his fingers and thumb. It’s a pretty shade of bright, strong blue, but apart from that, it’s unremarkable. It’s the kind of mark you get from shaking hands, or putting your hand on someone’s arm to steady them... Any one of a thousand daily situations, but until Jason meets his soulmate, and everyone else can see it too, it’s nothing more than an annoyance.Dick's is ...far, far more unique, though.





	Rooftop Gasoline Apologies

Jason sits on the edge of the roof under the overhang, hiding from the rain, and smokes his cigarette. Despite what the other guys in the squat say, he’s not actually staring at his soulmark. He usually doesn’t. His mark is so vague as to be useless, and if everyone else could see it they’d understand that without needing to ask. It covers his entire left palm and the underside of his fingers and thumb. It’s a pretty shade of bright, strong blue, but apart from that, it’s unremarkable. It’s the kind of mark you get from shaking hands, or putting your hand on someone’s arm to steady them... Any one of a thousand daily situations, but until Jason meets his soulmate, and everyone else can see it too, it’s nothing more than an annoyance. 

The rain finally lets up as he stubs his cigarette out and Jason sighs. That was his last smoke, and unless he can score some money soon, it’ll be the last one for a while. His stomach grumbles quietly, and Jason hopes he can lift a wallet tonight so he can eat. He walks over to the fire escape and slowly climbs down to the alley below; hanging around at the alley’s entrance, looking for an easy mark with a fat wallet. At this time of night, those are usually few and far between, but Jason’ll take what he can get. 

Finally a drunk businessman staggers past and Jason darts out as quick as he can, bumping into the guy and lifting his wallet in seconds. He yanks out the cash, and slips the now empty wallet back into the guy’s pocket. He disappears into the shadows of the alley before the drunk even realises he’s bumped into someone, leaving him standing on the street, blinking at nothing and frowning. By the time Jason’s back on the rooftop, the drunk has lurched off home, and Jason’s left with what looks like a nice thick stack of bills. With any luck it’s tens and twenties, and not a stack of ones destined for a strip club. 

Before he gets the chance to open up the wad and check, there’s a quiet thud behind him and Jason turns slowly, heart sinking. It’s got to be one of the Gotham vigilantes, and Jason sneers. In all his eighteen years of life, he’s managed not to see any of them up close and personal before; even though he once managed to jack the Batmobile of all of its tires. (Which is still his proudest moment ever. He ate off the money he scored from selling those for a good six months, _and_ got his favourite leather jacket, that he’s only just grown into, brand new. Good memories, those.)

“You know, I’m pretty sure that doesn’t belong to you.” Robin says, smirk somehow visible in the dark. His teeth look unnaturally white and Jason feels weirded out by how they shine in the gloom. He can’t help but flick his gaze down, and yup, the acres of bare leg skin on display is just as distracting as he’s heard it is from henchmen and random thugs in the bars he pretends he’s old enough to get into.

“Pretty sure this is none of your business, _pantsless_ wonder.” Jason growls at him, shoving the money deep into the internal pocket of his jacket.

“I’m making it my business.” Robin’s smirk turns into something nastier, moving into a fighting stance. Jason sighs, really not in the mood for getting beaten up.

“Ugh. This is why no one likes you.” Jason mutters, rushing at Robin and taking a swing. Robin dodges easily, and Jason spins, following after him and slipping on the wet rooftop. While his feet are skidding and before he hits the ground, he reaches up and out to steady himself, hand hitting on Robin’s chest and sliding up until his left hand is wrapped tight around Robin’s throat. The act of crashing into Robin means that they both stagger backwards, slamming into the wall of the roof access, and oh fuck, now he’s pressing the vigilante right up against a wall with his entire body. 

He can feel the heat of Robin’s skin on his palm, the slight inflation and deflation as he breathes, and Jason’s gaze is dragged down to Robin’s open mouth. He can even feel Robin’s pulse at the tips of his fingers. They’re pressed body to body, although Jason’s got an inch or four of height on the vigilante. Robin’s hands gently cup Jason’s biceps, and the hard, weirdly stiff clothing presses against Jason uncomfortably. The bare skin of Robin’s inner thighs presses up on the outside of Jason’s legs. The pose is both threatening, and somehow vaguely sexual, probably because Robin’s not wearing pants, and Jason doesn’t much like it. 

“You know, I usually don’t let a guy get this personal with me without buying me dinner first.” Robin smirks, making Jason instinctively pull back. “Or at least tying me up.” There’s a long pause and Jason realises that Robin’s waiting for him to make a comment so the well known for being _chatty_ vigilante can make some banter on it, but Jason’s too busy staring at the bright red palm print on Robin’s throat. It’s not a red mark from irritation or squeezing. It’s a soulmark, and it definitely wasn’t there before.

“Oh fuck, your _neck_...” Jason says, half horrified and half amazed, pointing to the newly appeared mark.

“What?” Robin says, and while Jason stands there feeling numb, Robin fumbles in his belt to pull out a small mirror, helpfully labelled Bat – Soulmark Check Mirror, and looks at his neck quickly. “Looks the same as ever.”

“No.” Jason swallows numbly. “That palm print definitely wasn’t there before.”

“Your hand... It wasn’t blue before, was it?” Robin says pointing at Jason’s left. “You can see my neck? Oh... Wow, you’re... You’re my soulmate?” Robin says in wonder and Jason starts to freak out a little. 

Robin moves closer to him, body language changing from an aggressive/defensive fighting stance to a more open, amazed and delighted one. Robin reaches out for his hand too fast for Jason’s liking, and his body reacts automatically, his right fist swinging into Robin’s mouth while Jason watches on helplessly. He goes into full panic mode, running for the fire escape after catching sight of Robin on his ass on the rooftop, hand reaching out for him and mouth hanging open, blood dripping down his chin. Jason goes down the fire escape at break neck speed, hitting the concrete running, darting through all the hidden routes that only street kids know, kept hidden from the vigilantes.

He finally slows down, arriving at his most secure bolthole. He curls up in the corner of the small room in the sewers near the heating vent, shoving his fists under his arms and trying not to rock back and forth in shock at what he’d done.

He’d _hit_ his soulmate. You don’t do that. Even his piece of shit father, who used to get into the worst verbal fights with Jason’s mother, the kind that sent Jason to hide under the kitchen table with their dog, had never resorted to using his fists on his soulmate. He’s worse than his _dad_. Abusers don’t deserve soulmates, and Jason has just abused his. He doesn’t want to be an abuser, in fact, he won’t be. He’ll do everything he can not to be. He’ll have to keep his distance from Robin. And that means avoiding the rooftops, maybe even leaving Gotham for good, if it comes to that. He needs to think, to plan. Work out his options and make sure he never does it again.

***

Dick gets off his bike, walking slowly back into the cave, trying not to feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’d always expected to meet his soulmate in uniform, but he’d thought that the outcome would be ...Happier? Less violent certainly. The thought that his soulmate wouldn’t feel the same never even occurred to him. 

Dick supposes he’d bought into the idealised soulmates society promotes, that two individuals are matched and meet and it’s instant, everlasting perfection. They touch, light shines down from the heavens, they know each other on a soul deep level immediately. It’s nothing like that, of course; Dick’s parents were soulmates, so he knows the relationship takes work like any other; the mark simply lets them identify each other. 

There are other myths that are false, like the tingling in the marks meaning your soulmate is near. That particular one actually only means your soulmate is touching their mark. Dick’s never understood why the tabloid magazines that constantly scream advice and track celebrity matches always seem to be promoting the scientifically disproven myths, as if any of that helps you find or keep your soulmate. 

The sheer amount of movies and tv shows that use soulmates as a ridiculous plot device can’t help either. But not even horror movies, where the poor hero or heroine discovers their soulmate is a monster or a serial killer include _rejection_. Dick’s at a loss to know how to overcome that. He feels like crying hopelessly as he heads over to the medical area, preparing to clean up his chin and comes face to face with Alfred.

“Master Dick!” Alfred’s eyebrows are reaching up higher than Dick can remember seeing them go. “My. Well. You _did_ say your soulmark was utterly unmistakable... I see you weren’t exaggerating in the slightest.”

“I... Uh. Yeah.” Dick says, not even able to dredge up a smile for Alfred.

“And from that reaction, I take it the meeting went worse than expected?” Alfred says, guiding Dick to sit down, and then retrieving the first aid kit to look at his lip.

“No. God, no, it really didn’t Alfred.” Dick clenches his fist to will away the tears threatening to fall behind his domino. “I caught a pick pocket lifting wallets, and he slipped and his hand landed on my throat. I was so happy, it never occurred to me that my soulmate might not feel the same, you know? But you should have seen him, he was so scared. And I guess. I guess I pushed too hard to soon? I didn’t let him have time to process anything, I went straight in for a hug and this happened.” Dick gestures to his split lip.

“Did you, Master Dick?” Alfred says in that even tone he always uses when he knows you’re trying to lie to him.

“He was terrified, Alfred. Really. I don’t know who was more surprised he hit me, him or me.” Dick swallows shallowly as Alfred cleans the blood away with a wet cloth. “He looked so panicked afterwards, he just ran off. I don’t think he had any idea what he was doing.” 

“I see.” Alfred says again in that same bland tone, and Dick feels his heart sink further down into his stomach. Dick’s rescued from having to continue convincing Alfred that his soulmate isn’t a complete waste of skin when Bruce rounds the corner of the medical area, staring at his tablet. 

“Dick, you’re back. Good. I need you to... What the hell is that?” Bruce says, looking over to Dick with thunder on his face when he sees Dick’s neck.

“You know what it is Bruce.” Dick sighs, time for round two of ‘It’s not as bad as it looks’. “It’s my soulmark.”

“They did that to you.” Bruce grits out between his teeth, clearly furious on Dick’s behalf. It’s heartwarming and bittersweet at the same time.

“Look, I know we all convinced ourselves that I’d meet my soulmate during training or sparring with new team members, but come on, it’s not a surprise it happened on patrol.” Dick says, trying for a light tone and somehow just about managing it for Bruce’s sake. 

“Dick.” Bruce says, clearly about to gear up into a lecture Dick can’t hear right now.

“Don’t _Dick_ me.” Dick scowls at Bruce, and winces when it pulls at his lip. “You’ve got no room to argue with how you met Selina.” Dick points at the three purple lines that bisect Bruce’s face like a huge cat scratch. That the tips of three of Selina’s fingers are ink black is something Bruce refuses to talk about. 

“Let me find them at least.” Bruce says, eyes burning hotly. And no, Dick can’t let that happen. Bruce will go in like the vengeance of the night he calls himself, and Dick can’t let that happen. “Tell me their name.”

“No. I’m going to deal with this.” Dick says, steeling himself for an argument. They’ve been arguing less recently, but Dick will fight to protect his soulmate if he has to.

“Hrrn.” Bruce grunts, still as stone, but Dick senses that Bruce is a little unsure right now and presses his advantage.

“They’re _my_ soulmate, Bruce. I’ll deal with this.” Dick says, and Bruce stares at him for a long moment before turning away without a word towards the computer. It’s as good as an admittance that he’s leaving it to Dick as he’s going to get. 

***

Jason wakes up from the most intense wet dream he’s had in years, unable to remember anything but tight, wet heat and overwhelming pleasure. He feels like his soul has been sucked out of him with the pressure and ecstasy he felt. Then reality hits him and all he can feel is soggy boxers, a bone deep tiredness, and a tingling in his hand that won’t stop. He can’t help but wonder if those old soulmark myths are true, and you really can tell if your soulmate is nearby by how the mark feels. He hopes they aren’t. Facing Robin now is something he just can’t deal with. It takes him a few moments before he realises that is left hand is squeezing the blanket so hard that he can’t unclench his fist, and he has to massage his fingers before he can let go.

He sits up against the wall of his bolthole, feeling the hunger gnaw away at his stomach. He hasn’t left in two days, too caught up in wanting to be hidden from Robin and Batman, and the whirl of self recrimination to leave and get food. He hates himself more than ever, and all he wants is to never see Robin again, and also apologise profusely. Unfortunately, the second thing means that he can’t have the first.

Hunger eventually forces him out of his hiding spot, but it’s the middle of the day, so he feels confident that he’s not going to run into the Dynamic Duo while in G-Mart picking up instant noodles. When he gets back to his normal squat, he notices several cans of gasoline tucked away in a corner. And it seeds an idea in his head that won’t go away. Maybe there is a way to apologise without seeing Robin, and forcing him to be around a guy like Jason ever again.

It takes him a week to find a rooftop suitable for his plan, several blocks away from where he lives so that he probably won’t be found if they look for him, but not too far to drag the necessary supplies for what he wants to do, and flat and big enough too. A few days after that he sets his plan in motion. Maybe Robin won’t ever see it, but at least he can move on with his life knowing he tried. It’s barely sufficient, but it’s all he can do.

Jason stares at the rooftop, waiting for dark to fully fall. He’s laid out the gasoline on the roof already, the words simple, but clear. He’s soaked the old newspapers in the liquid, stopping and restarting his laying out of words, checking and rechecking his work. The palm symbol was the hardest to lay out, making it look like anything other than a blob with lines coming out of it took up most of Jason’s afternoon. Luckily he had nothing better to do today. The building’s abandoned and there are no squatters staying here beyond the ever present rats. 

His message won’t mean anything to anyone but Robin, which is only a bonus as far as Jason’s concerned. Batman must know, but spelling it out anymore will clue others in, and the last thing Jason wants is his worst shame being broadcast across Gotham. He flicks a match into the pool of gasoline and watches as the flames spark and travel along the lines. He leaves the fire burning, his message all lit up in flames, dancing merrily on the rooftop. 

Five minutes later as he’s passing an electronics store with tvs in the window, he can see he’s made the news. It’s just three simple but incredibly meaningful words, followed by the palm shape, Robin’s dreadful soulmark.

ROBIN, I’M SORRY. 

His message is being broadcast all over Gotham right now. He hopes Robin sees it. Jason can’t undo what he did, one of the worst taboos he can think of; but maybe seeing this will help Robin with whatever he’s feeling right now. Jason walks home, feeling the guilt and knowing that he won’t be forgiven. Robin doesn’t deserve to have him as a soulmate. You’d think being Robin’s soulmate would be Jason catching a break, but no, the universe is playing a joke on the both of them, and of course, as usual, Jason’s the butt of the joke once again. 

***

Dick’s seen the fires by now. There isn’t anybody in Gotham who hasn’t, given how it exploded over social media, the news and the vigilante gossip websites. There are, however, only eight people who know what that message means, and at least seven of them aren’t impressed. Dick’s not sure how he’s meant to feel, but at least he knows his soulmate is a big enough person to apologise. It doesn’t make it right, but honestly, Dick was more upset that he ran away than he was by getting hit in the mouth. A concept that apparently no one in his life understands, as he’s spent the last half an hour trying to explain to his friends. 

The second they’d heard his soulmate had hit him they’d been furious; and no matter how many times Dick has said it was an accident, that he’d deliberately dropped his guard, and that his soulmate had been horrified; they’d all got caught up in a spiral of blame. Dick knows he’s somewhat outside the norm, his unique mark setting him up for not receiving it in a gentle touch; but violence towards your soulmate is, while not quite the _ultimate_ taboo, right up there.

Their outrage, and the way they’re calling his soulmate names is making Dick feel worse about the situation. Dick slumps down into the couch, and lets their words wash over him while he stares at the movie they were supposed to be watching until Dick opened his big mouth and mentioned the apology.

“He’s scum! And an arsonist!” Wally yells, throwing his arms up in the arm as if someone here is disagreeing with him.

“Does he really believe _that_ is in any way a good enough apology?” Donna scoffs, shaking her head. Her hair moves across her shoulders like silk, catching the light and Dick’s eye. 

“The nerve of some people.” Roy seethes, punching the arm of the couch he’s sitting on. “I hope they find him and him lock him up for years.”

“I don’t quite understand the severity of the situation.” Kori admits, looking over at Dick sympathetically. “But I do not believe this apology is enough. Dick, you can do much better than this person. No matter what some mark on your skin says.” 

“Thanks, Kori.” Dick mumbles, barely managing to dredge up a smile at her. She’s a good friend and so far the only one who hasn’t openly insulted his soulmate. But the trouble is, that mark on his skin says that he _can’t_ do better. That this guy is _the One_ for him. That no matter what happens between them, Dick should keep trying _because he’s worth it_. Dick’s been trained by the earth’s second greatest detective. He can find one nameless, possibly homeless guy out of millions in Gotham, after barely seeing him and only having two identifying traits of dark hair and a blue palm soulmark. This’ll be easy.

***

Jason hurries into the back area of the diner, folding himself into his usual corner booth. It’s right by the door to the bathrooms, so most people choose not to sit there; which is a good thing as far as Jason’s concerned. Less people to judge his dirty clothes and greasy hair and mess of stubble that he hasn’t been able to shave off despite how much it itches. He waves at Steph the waitress, and she mouths ‘the usual?” at him, and Jason nods. He likes Steph, she always brings him a sealed bottle of water with his order. He’d stopped her getting mugged once a year or so ago, as she left work, because Jason may be a pick pocket and occasional carjacker, but he never takes from those who can’t afford it. Ever since then, she’d give him little extras when she could.

He flicks his gaze around the nearly empty diner, eyes landing on the group of twenty-somethings in the booth by the window. And holy fuck, is that Richie Grayson? The actual Richie ‘The Face of the Young Darlings of Gotham’ Grayson in that booth? Damn, he looks even better in person than on tv. Jason’s seen him a few times, usually in the window of an electronics store, being interviewed for a Wayne charity gala with the hottest redhead supermodel Jason’s ever seen on his arm. (Which might have led to a few late night sessions with Mr Right, but that’s nobody’s business but Jason’s...) And that hot redhead supermodel is here too, and fuck Jason’s life if they’re both not people who actually look better in everyday wear than they do all jazzed up. It kinda pisses Jason off.

And of course that’s the moment Richie looks over at Jason and they make eye contact. Richie’s pretty blue eyes widen, and Jason is saved from looking like a creeper by Steph coming over with his order. Jason lets his eyes drop naturally to the table top and picks up his first burger, starting to inhale it simply to avoid looking at Richie. His hand tingles and itches, and Jason really hopes Robin isn’t close by. Despite himself, Jason looks up and over at Richie again, he’s idly stroking his bare flawless throat, looking over at Jason. Which is... Odd to say the least. 

Jason feels a creeping sense of weirdness, and focuses on eating his two other burgers and washing them down with his strawberry milkshake. As soon as he’s finished, he stands up, throwing down enough bills to cover his food, and a little extra as a tip for Steph. The creeping wrongness follows him out of the diner, and Jason uses his knowledge of the area to slip into a recess in an alley. Moments later he hears voices up above him.

“God damn it.” A man says, and it sounds a lot like Robin. But how did he find him so fast?

“OK, Rob, now is the time you explain why you took off like a fire was lit under your ass.” Another voice, deeper, but still young, says. Batman maybe? Jason hopes not.

“I... I thought I saw...” Robin huffs, trailing off in annoyance.

“You saw?” the other man prompts Robin.

“It doesn’t matter. I guess I was wrong. Wishful thinking.” Robin sounds like he’s gritting his teeth through his words. “Come on, let’s get back to the others.”

“You thought you saw _him_?” The other man asks, sounding angry. “Rob...”

“Don’t. ...Just. Don’t.” Robin snaps, and Jason hears two sets of footfalls moving away from him. He takes a deep breath and tries not to wonder exactly what just happened. The implications are huge, and Jason’s already made the decision not to know, or be involved. He has to stick to that. It’s better for Robin and him this way, after all. 

***

“People like that are the _worst_.” Wally says, not missing a beat despite running into the kitchen to make them all smoothies to drink for the next movie they’re about to watch, and back again.

“Seriously! I can’t stand them. They always think they’re right too. It’s sickening.” Donna says, taking her drink from Wally with a smile.

“I don’t even like talking about them. It’s so sad.” Kori shrugs, winding a hand into her long red hair and leaning into Dick’s side. Usually Dick would rest his arm over her shoulders, but today, the constant harping on about soulmates who ‘don’t make the cut’ is setting his entire body, not just his teeth on edge, and the thought of hugging anyone feels _wrong_.

“Tell me about it.” Roy snorts, clearly gearing up for a proper ranting session about it. “Did I tell you about the soulmate couple I met two months ago? The guy had basically beaten her black and blue and when we tried to take him away, she was screaming and fighting _us_! She was defending a scumbag like that because of a patch of coloured skin!”

“WOULD YOU SHUT UP ROY? I GET IT.” Dick yells, finally losing his cool. “You think my soulmate is trash. You’ve made that perfectly clear. Never mind that I met him for not even five minutes and know nothing about him, the universe picked him for me, and you all do nothing but trashtalk him! How do you think that makes me feel, huh? You not shutting up about it makes me feel _shitty_. So will you all just FUCKING DROP IT?” Dick jumps up from the couch and storms out of the common room, rushing along the corridor until he realises that someone’s following him. 

“Dick! Wait.” Donna calls out after him, and Dick slows down for her, but he doesn’t stop. “Dick, come on, please... I know you’re angry, but... Is it us you’re really angry at?”

“Donna.” Dick says in a very Batman tone of voice that instantly makes her stop talking.

“Yes?” Donna says hesitantly, her long hair swinging behind her as they come to a stop by Dick’s bedroom door.

“I AM BUILDING A LEAN-TO.” Dick bites out. Donna blinks at hearing the code they’ve developed for when Dick has been pushed too far and _needs_ to be left alone to cool down.

“I... OK.” Donna says, pausing to gather her words. “I’m going to say two things and then I’m going to tell everyone else they need to quit with the comments.”

“...Fine.” Dick sighs angrily, clenching his teeth hard to stop from saying anything he’ll regret.

“I’m sorry.” Donna sighs. “We should have noticed we were upsetting you. _I_ should have noticed, and I’m really sorry we didn’t.”

“Apology accepted.” Dick grits out. He’ll take the apology, but he’s not forgiven them yet. He needs to give it an hour or so.

“The second thing is please apologise to Roy when you’ve cooled down. He wasn’t the only one upsetting you, but he did take the brunt just now, and that wasn’t fair.” Donna says, her dark eyes gently reproving Dick as he stares into them.

“...Fine.” Dick nods jerkily. Donna’s not wrong, Roy was simply the last person to speak, so that’s why Dick snapped at him, and it _wasn’t_ fair. Dick’s got a notorious temper, but usually he focuses his anger on a deserving target. 

“Thank you. I’m going to give you space now.” Donna gives him a smile and leaves Dick alone to lean against the doorframe, and wonder why everything to do with his soulmate has to go so wrong every single time.

***

Jason feels better than he has in a while. Last night he stayed in one of the rare independent non-Wayne Foundation funded Homeless shelters, and not only did he get to wash, shave and swap out his old, dirty and threadbare clothes for a much warmer, new and clean outfit, he also got a good night’s sleep in a private locked room, where none of his things were stolen. The unruly jungle that was his facial hair is gone, so Jason’s enjoying the rare feeling of the breeze on his lower face for the few days he’ll be able to feel it, given how quickly it grows back.

He walks to his favourite diner, feeling more relaxed than usual, and thinking he might even sit at the counter today. And in fact he does. He drops his backpack down to the ground, and slides onto one of the stools at the counter. Steph’s not on shift, but Jason gives the waitress a smile as he gives his order anyway, and gets one back. Yup, today’s shaping up to be a good day. He even bobs his head at the guy two stools over before sipping at his nice hot coffee. Which turns out to be a mistake as Guy Two Stools Over apparently takes it as an invitation to move closer and strike up a conversation. Ugh, great. Guy Now Sitting Right Next To Jason slides his shades off and turns to him.

“Fancy meeting you here.” If that voice is strangely familiar, then that face is unmistakable. Richie ‘The Face of the Young Gotham Darlings’ Grayson is talking to  
_Jason_. In a very flirty tone, no less. Richie strokes his throat and Jason’s hand tingles. Richie stops and the itch in Jason’s hand stops exactly with it. Jason clenches his hand and tries to ignore it.

“Uh. Yeah, sure...” Jason mutters, eyes flicking down to the bare blemish free skin of Richie’s neck. Jason kinda wants to bite it, just to have his mark on there, which is a strange thought to be having about a stranger.

“I saw you in here last week, right?” Richie says, staring at Jason intently. “That was you?”

“Uh. Yeah? Why?” Jason keeps looking down to Richie’s neck to avoid that piercing stare, and narrows his eyes as he sees what looks like make up flaking away at the corner of Richie’s jaw. He’s covering something up, and Jason doesn’t think it’s a hickey somehow.

“The same reason your hand’s tingling when I do _this_.” Richie says, stroking his throat again, and sure enough Jason’s hand has electric prickles all over it. And suddenly, the reason why his voice is so familiar, and the way his mouth is parted ever so slightly, pairs together in Jason’s mind. Richie is _Robin_. “The same reason my neck tingles when you clench your fist... And I did get your little rooftop gasoline fire message by the way. Apology accepted.”

“ _Fuck_...” Jason breathes, frozen in place. “Fuck. I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m sorry.” In one jerky motion, Jason’s leant down, grabbed his bag and dashed for the door, needing to get out of there. 

“Wait! Please!” Richie calls after him, but Jason doesn’t. He runs. He runs for one block, then two, finally slowing down to a walk after the third. A park opens up before him, and he turns right into it, trying to calm down, shoving his hand into his pocket to find his pack of cigarettes. Fuck, he needs a smoke right now. 

“Damn, you’re fast when you want to be.” Richie says jogging up behind him and Jason spins on his heel, staring at his soulmate.

“Look, I...” Jason says, trying to head off whatever’s about to be said to him.

“Please, let me say my piece. You want to walk away after that, I won’t stop you. Or follow you.” Richie says, all earnest and endearing. Jason finds himself nodding, and hates himself for it. “Why don’t we sit?” Richie tilts his head towards a nearby bench, and walks over to sit on it. Jason follows him, feeling wary.

“Look, Richie...” Jason says as he sits down, pulling his bag in front of him defensively.

“Dick.” Richie says firmly, tucking the sunglasses still in his hand into the neckline of his shirt.

“I guess I deserve that.” Jason’s been called worse for less, after all.

“No.” Richie laughs, slightly awkwardly, the movement causing his stupidly great hair to slip over his eyes. “My name. It’s Dick, not Richie.”

“Uh. Seriously?” Jason looks over at Richie, no Dick, blinking in surprise.

“Yeah.” Dick grins and shrugs sheepishly. “My parents were from the circus, so it didn’t seem so odd to them?”

“...Only you and your face could get away with that, Face.” Jason says, shaking his head, trying not to be too amused.

“Face?” Dick raises his eyebrows at the nickname, but there’s a slight flush over his cheeks that makes Jason think he doesn’t mind it too much.

“You’re the face of the ‘Young Gotham Darlings’ right? So, Face.” Jason shrugs, trying not to smirk, and realising that he feels at ease right now. “Besides I’m not calling you _Dick_.”

“But it’s my name.” Dick says with a wide grin and a sparkle in his eye.

“Sure, whatever you say, _Face_.” Jason does smirk then, and it’s worth it to see Dick’s real smile.

“I’m not mad about the punch you know.” Dick says, changing the subject and looking down at his now loosely linked hands. “I’m a little pissed you ran, but I guess if I’d hit you, I’d have run too.”

“Right.” Jason says, feeling uncomfortable now. He doesn’t deserve Dick’s forgiveness, and has no idea what to say.

“Pretty much everyone I know thinks that you’re a bad idea.” Dick looks up at him, searching his face for what Jason thinks of that.

“They’re not wrong.” Jason admits, he’s the type of person that hit his soulmate. He’s the _epitome_ of a bad idea.

“I think they are.” Dick says slowly. “They weren’t there when it happened. You were already freaking out, I know way better than to go in for a hug at moments like that.”

“Face...” Jason says helplessly. “That doesn’t excuse what I did.”

“I’m not excusing it.” Dick huffs, in a long suffering tone. “I’m just trying to say that it wasn’t _all_ on you.”

“I guess. But still... I am sorry I hit you.” Jason says looking away guiltily.

“I know.” Dick says, and Jason feels a little lighter at the acceptance. “You know, I don’t even know your name...”

“Jason. Jason Todd.” It’s automatic for Jason to offer his hand out to shake, but for once he uses his left hand and Dick looks down at it, amused.

“Thanks.” Dick takes his hand, shaking it gently, just the once before letting go. The warmth of his fingertips as their hands separate seeps into Jason’s palm.

“I figure I owe you that at least.” Jason shrugs, trying not to clench his hand to keep the warmth there.

“Listen. I want to give you another chance.” Dick says, and Jason’s refusal must show on his face because Dick carries on. “I’m not saying we should run off into the sunset together, but you’re my soulmate. I want you in my life, somehow. We don’t have to be boyfriends, or even friends really. But I want to get to know you. Can we try?”

“This is a bad idea.” Jason runs his hand through his hair, trying to replace the faded warmth from Dick’s hand with another sensation. “Your family and friends are right. I’m not worth your time.”

“Let me be the judge of that? Please?” Dick says, and Jason looks over at him, trying to ignore the pleading in Dick’s eyes and failing.

“I...” Jason stalls for time. He needs to come up with a good reason for Dick to stay away but nothing’s coming to mind. Probably because he wants to be around Dick, just as much as Dick wants to be around him, it seems.

“Can I at least get your number? We could talk over the phone if you’d prefer.” Dick tries, and that request Jason can give a definitive answer to.

“I don’t have a cell.” Jason says apologetically. Dick’s face jumps through several expressions, and his hand twitches towards his pocket like he’s thinking of offering his phone to Jason.

“Oh. Ah, then maybe...” Dick stutters, obviously trying to think of an alternative. “Maybe we could meet up here next week? This bench, this time?”

“I don’t know.” Jason says, chewing at his lip. “I don’t think we should.”

“Please?” Dick sends him a pleading look. “Look, I’ll be here next week, so please come. But if you don’t... I’ll stop looking for you. I won’t track you down, and no one will come after you, not Batman, not Robin, not anyone else. Please think about it?” 

“Alright. I’ll think about it. No promises though.” Jason studies Dick’s face, because if this _is_ the last time he’s going to see Dick, he wants to memorise that face looking at _him_ and only him.

“Thank you, Jason.” Dick says smiling, earnest and happy, and endearingly, his hair flops into his eyes again.

“Sure, Face.” Jason stands up, feeling lighter, but still conflicted. “I should go.”

“I... Yeah. See you next week?” Dick says, hope shining in his eyes. Jason doesn’t nod, as much as he wants to, and walks off. As he leaves the park, he pauses to finally light up that cigarette he’s been craving, and he can’t help but look back at Dick, still sitting on the bench, lifting a hand to stroke his throat. Jason’s hand tingles in sympathy. 

***

“Jason! You came. I’m so glad.” Dick knows the smile on his face is probably insanely wide and maybe even a little offputting, but he’s so happy he can’t stop. It’s a beautiful day in the park, and it’s the perfect day to have a ‘date’ with his soulmate.

“Yeah. This is still a bad idea... But I...” Jason says, frowning down at the path beneath his feet. “I don’t know. I’m here. I guess.” He looks up, over at Dick and the frown on his face eases a little. Dick doesn’t hope to dare that just looking at him could improve Jason’s mood. (But deep down he _does_ want that. More than anything.)

“I’m really happy you are.” Dick nervously gestures to the bench, and then sits down before he does something stupid like try to hug the stuffing out of Jason again. “I uh, I brought sandwiches? If you’re hungry. Don’t worry, I didn’t make them.”

“Why would I worry if you made them?” Jason says, sprawling into the bench. His long legs edge into the park’s pathway, and his strong looking arms rest on the top of the bench. Dick’s not sure what kind of workout regime or diet Jason sticks to, considering he seems to be homeless, but whatever he does, it’s working for him, leaving Jason looking like he’s an athlete or (and this is a more likely scenario, however unpleasant) a henchman for one of Batman’s rogues. It’s a more confident pose than Dick’s seen him sit in before, and it suits him. “You that bad in the kitchen, Face?”

“Kind of, yeah. I’ve been banned from the kitchen at the Manor.” Dick says sheepishly, handing Jason his sandwich out of the cooler next to him. “I _can_ do the basics when I can be bothered. It’s just a lot easier to get takeout than cook for one, though.”

“I’ll take your word on that.” Jason shrugs, unwrapping his sandwich and biting into it without looking. He chews, and an easy silence falls over them. Dick unwraps his own Alfred made sub and debates small talk.

“So, as we’re getting to know each other, are you comfortable telling me about yourself? Your family, things like that?” Dick sits back, taking a small bite of delicious provolone cheese, romaine lettuce and salty prosciutto in a soft white sub. Alfred really has made up a wonderful picnic for him, despite the fact that Dick was incredibly coy about who he’d be eating it with. 

“Not much to tell, so... Sure.” Jason sighs, pushing a hand through his dark curly hair. “Dad was in and out of prison all my life, till he died when I was eleven. Mom died when I was ten from an overdose, I’ve been on my own since then.” Jason shrugs and takes a big bite of his sub, clearly not wanting to give any more details. Not that he needs to, Dick had looked him up a few days ago. Jason’s background was not a happy one, and it broke Dick’s heart to read the file social services had compiled on him before he ran away from the group home, never to surface in the system again. “You?”

_(Dick’s using the computer in the cave while Bruce is out on patrol. He feels a little guilty sneaking around behind everyone’s backs, but he needs to look up Jason Todd and discover any secrets before anyone else catches on. So of course by the time he finds Jason’s file and has begun skimming the basics, Barbara logs on._

_“Doing a little research there, Hunk Wonder?” Barbara says with amusement in her voice._

_“Oh! ...Hey Babs.” Dick says, trying to keep calm. “Yeah, just doing a basic background check. Nothing interesting. You?”_

_“Pretty much the same. You need any help?” Barbara’s clearly bored if she’s offering to help Dick with basic research._

_“No, I’m good.” Dick says, using a casual tone, to hide how important this is to him. “Just looking up a ...carjacker apparently. Huh, started young.”_

_“You sure you don’t want any help?” Barbara says again, and Dick wonders if she’s feeling lonely, stuck at home all night in her chair, instead of patrolling with Bruce._

_“Nah. Thanks though, Babs. How are the new computers going?” Dick asks as distraction, and it works as ten minutes later, Barbara’s forgotten the previous conversation.)_

“Well, you probably know the basic story. Grew up in the circus, Bruce took me in after my parents were murdered.” Dick says, and watches as Jason nods. “Um, you mind if I tell you about the uh... Night life another time?”

“Sure.” Jason says, but narrows his eyes as he does. Dick has a feeling he won’t get away with no explanations next time, but honestly he can really only cope with so many painful memories at once.

“I loved the circus. I really miss it. I miss Zitka.” Dick sighs, swallowing down the realisation he hasn’t visited Haly’s in nearly a whole year. “All of the troupe was my family. I don’t get to see them so much anymore. Partially because of the ‘night life’, and that they travel, and I only go to New York, really.” 

“Zitka?” Jason says, finishing off his sandwich, and wiping his mouth with his left hand. Dick’s neck tingles pleasantly at the touch.

“She’s the best elephant ever. She used to babysit me. She’d pick me up and let me ride her!” Dick gestures Zitka doing exactly that, using his arm as her trunk.

“Your babysitter was an _elephant_?” Jason says incredulously, eyebrows rising up, his fingers tapping rapidly on his knee.

“Yeah. She’s great. Still remembers me after all this time.” Dick laughs, remembering how last time he’d gone to see her, she’d showered him in peanuts. “It was a real trip moving from the circus to the manor though.”

“Yeah?” Jason shrugs, hand delving into his pocket, pulling out a packet of cigarettes. He doesn’t take one out, instead spinning the box in his hand, but Dick gets the feeling he wants to light up.

“Yeah. It’s a huge palace, and basically, I thought I could ride all the banisters and swing off the chandeliers, like it was a playground. I was told it wasn’t allowed.” Dick grins at Jason. “So, of course to this day, I still slide down the banisters and swing off the chandeliers. It’s not as easy as it was when I was nine though.”

“You’re a huge dork, Face.” Jason laughs, and his whole face lights up with his amusement, and Dick realises he loves it. He wants to make Jason look like that every day. He wants to see that slightly crooked smile, and the way the edges of Jason’s eyes crinkle with amusement.

“I am not!” Dick protests, but he’s laughing too.

“Yeah, yeah you are, Face. A huge fucking dork.” Jason laughs again, and Dick can’t help but stare at the way Jason’s face is even more handsome when he’s happy and relaxed and not angry.

“Yeah, well...” Dick pauses. “You know, at the risk of ruining the good mood, and I promise I’m not hitting on you, but I want to tell you, you look good when you smile.”

“I’m...” Jason chews on his lip. “I’m not sure how I’m meant to take that.”

“No, wait, it’s... This is probably the first time I’ve seen you actually happy since we first met?” Dick tries to explain. “It doesn’t have to mean anything other than a platonic soulmate ‘I feel happy seeing you happy’ thing. Really!” 

“I... _Fuck_. I’m... happy being around you too.” Jason says, shifting awkwardly. “I don’t really want to be platonic. But... I’m no good for you, Face.”

“I don’t believe that. And if you let me, I’ll prove that to you.” Dick says, reaching out but stopping before he actually touches Jason’s hand.

“I’ll think about it.” Jason says, reaching up and taking Dick’s hand. The warmth of his skin soaks into Dick’s. Dick can almost feel the light and warmth suffuse his whole body. 

“So you’ll be here next week then?” Dick asks, trying not to sound too giddy even though he’s feeling like he could _fly_ right about now. Jason’s going to give them a chance! 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be here.” Jason nods, tightening his grip on Dick’s hand comfortingly.

***

It’s raining hard when Alfred opens the front door to Master Dick’s gentleman caller. Alfred knows that Master Dick has been seeing his young man on a regular basis for the last two months, but this is the first time that he’s been to the Manor, or even been introduced to any of Master Dick’s friends or family. Any questions asked of Master Dick have been coyly sidestepped or outright ignored before this.

The poor young man is thoroughly soaked from the rain, and once he steps inside the Manor, he proceeds to drip onto the tiled foyer floor, looking embarrassed to be doing so. Master Dick emerges from the First Parlour, where his friends and the rest of the family are gathered, waiting to be introduced to his boyfriend.

“Jason, oh my god, you’re drenched. Let me get you a towel.” Master Dick exclaims, dashing to the nearest bathroom and returning with two towels before Alfred has the opportunity to tell him he has some in a sideboard in the foyer, shoving them at Mr Todd. “Here. Alfred, this is Jason Todd, my boyfriend. Jason, this is Alfred Pennyworth, our butler.”

“Hello Mr Pennyworth.” Mr Todd says, with a polite nod, clearly trying to use his best manners.

“You can call him Alfred.” Master Dick says guilelessly, while Mr Todd rubs his hair down first before wiping at his face. “It’s alright.”

“Here, Mr Todd, I suspect you’ll need all three of these.” Alfred says and the young man nods and takes the third towel gratefully.

“Thanks, Mr Pennyworth.” Mr Todd rubs the towel over his hair again, and looks over to Master Dick. “Oh... Your mark. You didn’t cover it up?”

“No, I never do at home.” Master Dick says, looking away for a moment. “I only cover it up because of the secret identity thing.”

“I thought you were ashamed of it.” Mr Todd says, flushing slightly. “It’s a secret ID thing?”

“Well, yeah?” Master Dick shrugs. “I mean, if Dick Grayson’s seen to have a really unique soulmark and then Robin gets captured, and the mark is seen, well... that’s the _bat out of the bag_ , so to speak.” 

“Oh yeah. That makes sense. Should have thought of that myself.” Mr Todd says, looking thoughtful. “Sorry.”

“No problem. So are you ready to face everyone?” Master Dick says, and the way he strokes his soulmark to comfort himself, and the matching twitch of Mr Todd’s left hand confirms Alfred’s suspicions that this is in fact Master Dick’s infamous soulmate.

“Uh... Can I dry off a little more?” Mr Todd says, looking extremely uncomfortable and nervous. It’s at this point Alfred decides to intervene, not because he pities the boy (although he does look quite pitiable at this precise moment), but because he rather wants to test the young man.

“Why don’t you and Mr Todd make a quick detour to the kitchen, Master Dick? I think Mr Todd needs to take a moment to warm up, don’t you?” Alfred says in the way he always does when he’s not actually making a suggestion at all. Thankfully all Master Bruce’s boys have learnt what that tone means over the years.

With Mr Todd installed at the kitchen table, and Master Dick sitting across from him, giving him encouraging smiles, Alfred sets his plan into action. He brews up a pot of tea, and sets it and two cups on a tray, bringing them over to the kitchen table. It takes no effort at all to fake a stumble, sending the cups and pot towards Mr Todd, who catches the teapot by the handle fairly skilfully, but catches one of the cups with his left hand where it promptly shatters, cutting his hand through his wet gloves. 

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr Todd. Here, I have the first aid kit. Let me look at that hand.” Actually hurting the young man hadn’t been Alfred’s plan, so he swings into action immediately, not waiting to see his reaction.

“It’s alright. No harm done, Mr Pennyworth.” Mr Todd says, looking up at him with a strangely blank look on his face.

“Nonsense, that’s quite a big cut.” Alfred says, looking that the welling pool of blood in the young man’s hand. “Master Dick, why don’t you go into the hall closet and see if we have a pair of replacement gloves?”

“Sure, Alfred” Dick says, not quite glaring at him, but obviously aware that Alfred has planned this.

Alfred notes that Mr Todd has set the teapot down on the table neatly and even piled the bloodied shards of teacup on the tray. He strips Mr Todd’s glove off and inspects the cut. “Well, that’s lucky. It looks worse than it is.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t hurt much. Just bleeding a bit. I guess it’s hard to tell given the colour.” Mr Todd says with a shrug. He doesn’t look the slightest bit put out, and Alfred starts to believe that the extreme circumstances of his first meeting with Master Dick really were an aberration as Master Dick continually claimed they were, and not the actions of a serial abuser as Alfred had feared.

“I really do apologise for this. It is _not_ my habit to injure visitors.” Alfred cleans the blood away and wipes the cut with disinfectant, and Jason barely twitches.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you had.” Mr Todd shrugs, looking vaguely ashamed. “I haven’t done a good job of making Dick happy at all since I met him. The fact he gave me a second chance is... Kinda fuc- uh, freaking unbelievable.” 

“If one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a better second. We find comfort somehow.” Alfred quotes, wrapping a bandage around Mr Todd’s hand.

“Mansfield Park?” Jason says, furrowing his brow. There’s a pause before he speaks again, as if he were debating whether he should. “I’ve always liked ‘We all have a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be’ myself, Mr Pennyworth.”

“I have to confess; I’m a little surprised you know that book.” Alfred says, blinking at him. “You don’t seem the type to like Austen at first glance.”

“No, I guess Gotham Streetrat doesn’t exactly scream Austen fan, does it?” Jason scoffs wearily. “The public library is free and warm and dry in winter, so I spend a lot of time in there. Picked up P&P one day to see what the fuss was about, and fell in love with her writing, I guess.”

“Ah, yes, the oft-quoted ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.’” Alfred says with a small smile.

“Which pretty much everyone takes on face value, forgetting that Austen was being sarcastic as fu- fudge.” Jason says with an eyeroll, and Alfred can’t help but agree with that assessment.

“Indeed. She was, as the kids nowadays say, savage.” Alfred says with a wry twist to his lips.

“Exactly!” Jason grins, looking instantly years younger. “And then you get the assholes who don’t understand Mr Darcy’s appeal... Sorry.” Jason flushes, apparently embarrassed at himself. “The last person I talked to about Austen didn’t get it. And it turned into an argument in the library.”

“It’s fine, Mr Todd. It’s rather nice to meet a fellow fan actually.” Alfred says, watching as his words make Jason relax all over, which is an unexpected reaction, and Alfred tucks it away to ponder later. “What is your take on Mr Darcy’s appeal, if I might ask?” 

“Well... everyone kinda assumes it’s the whole, rich, good looking asshole thing right? But really that’s not it. It’s that he can take a rejection well. And that once his flaws have been pointed out to him he works on fixing them. Not because he thinks it’ll get him the girl, but because he wants to be a better person. And he helps Lizzy’s family thinking she’ll never know, and not wanting her to. I mean who wouldn’t find that appealing. Or want to _be_ like that.” Jason says, and Alfred realises that Jason is trying his best to change, for himself, and Dick. “I mean I’m _trying_ , but...” 

“Well, young man, I can’t speak for Master Dick, but I believe if he’s willing to have you in his life, and tell you all his secrets, I’d say you’re succeeding.” Alfred says with confidence, knowing that he’d judged Jason far too harshly on the basis of one incident, and not taken into account the stress of that very first meeting.

“You... You think so?” Jason stammers eyes suddenly wide, and painfully young and hopeful.

“I do.” Alfred nods, patting his arm. “Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken.”

“Is that ...Emma?” Jason says hesitantly, after a brief pause as if he were trying to place the quote.

“Yes.” Alfred says with a warm approving smile. Jason ducks his head slightly and Alfred can see why Dick decided to give him a second chance. And of course that’s the moment Dick returns to the kitchen, new pair of gloves in hand.

“Hey, sorry that took a while. It was surprisingly hard to find a pair of gloves!” Dick says with a slightly nervous smile. He’s obviously been worrying about leaving the two of them alone together. “Everything going OK in here?”

“Indeed. Master Jason and I were just discussing literature.” Alfred says, standing up and clearing away the tray, giving Dick a look as he turns around that easily translates into ‘Really? You didn’t trust either of us? I’m disappointed in you, young man.’ “Your young man has a fine grasp of the work of Miss Austen.” Dick sends back a silent ‘Sorry, I’m nervous. And you did deliberately cut his hand just now!’

“Yeah, it was a nice chat?” Jason says, looking between the two of them with a slight frown, sensing that there’s another conversation going on that he’s not privy to.

“It was.” Alfred agrees with a nod. “In fact, I’m looking forward to talking to you again, Master Jason.”

“You don’t have to call me that.” Jason says, faintly embarrassed by the title. “Just Jason is fine.”

“Oh that’s a losing battle, Jay. Alfred calls us what he wants. You learn to live with it.” Dick says with a long suffering smile. “It took me a while to get used to it.”

“Uh. If you say so.” Jason looks unconvinced, standing up from the table. “It was nice meeting you Mr Pennyworth.”

“Alfred, Master Jason.” Alfred says, wiping his hands on a dishtowel to stop himself from patting the young man on the shoulder unnecessarily. “I like all the family to call me Alfred.”

“Um. I’m not family?” Jason says, confused and possibly a tad bit overwhelmed too. It’s a usual reaction to life in the Manor, one Alfred’s seen from nearly everyone who’s been inducted into the family.

“I think you’ll find you are now, Master Jason.” Alfred tells him as gently as he can manage, deciding that Master Dick’s young man needs some _proper taking care of_. 

“If Alfred says you’re family, no one can argue with him!” Dick says, with a relaxed smile. “Come on, I think we’ve made everyone else wait long enough, right? Ready to face them?”

“No.” Jason grumbles as he walks over to Dick and slips his left hand into Dick’s right, linking their fingers as he does. “But I guess we might as well get it over with.” 

Alfred watches as the two boys walk out, still hand in hand; bodies angled into each other, and lets a small smile rest on his face. There’s something inherently wonderful about watching a young loving pair of soulmates just be together.

***

A nerve wracking three hours later, and Jason finally gets to escape outside for some ‘air’, away from Dick’s friends and family. They don’t like him, he can tell, given their stiffly cool demeanour towards him, and the way they don’t seem happy for Dick; but at least they’re all being civil to him in front of Dick and Alfred, which is all Jason hoped for. Jason manages to stub out his cigarette and pops a mint or three into his mouth right before Dick comes out to check on him.

“Hey, there you are!” Dick says, with a relieved smile. Jason hopes he doesn’t think he was about to run off.

“Here I am.” Jason nods, feeling awkward and unsure of what he’s meant to do with himself now. Is he meant to head home, or stay the night?

“You did really well in there, you know.” Dick smiles at him again, but it’s tinged with sadness. “I’m sorry they gave you such a hard time.”

“Not your fault, Face.” Jason shrugs. “I think I got off light, to be honest.”

“Yeah, well. I want to give you a reward for sticking through it.” Dick moves in closer, resting his upper arms on Jason’s shoulders, close enough to kiss. “So, since we’re past the third date by quite a few... I’m going to share a secret with you.”

“Oh?” Jason lets a grin slip over his lips, taking in the way the moonlight catches on Dick’s hair, and this close, makes Dick’s eyes sparkle perfectly. 

“When I touch myself thinking about you, I always end up squeezing my neck. God, it gets me off so hard.” Dick says, not even blushing in the slightest. “You gave me a choking kink before we ever even met!” 

“Fuck Dickie, that’s...” Jason breathes out, picturing Dick naked and writhing in his bed, one hand covering his mark and the other with three fingers deep inside himself. His cock twitches with interest, and Jason clenches both hands into fists to control himself. Dick’s eyes slip closed as he feels it in his mark.

“It’s the best comedown for after patrol.” Dick says, eyes still closed, and when he opens them, his pupils are _blown_.

“What time do you do that?” Jason says, an idea occurring to him.

“Four am!” Dick grins, tilting his head at Jason, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“I keep waking up squeezing my blankets after intense wet dreams, right around that time.” Jason says, thrown back momentarily into those dreams of _hot, wet, tight, ecstasy_. “You think we’re feeling each other even in our sleep?”

“You know, we might be?” Dick blinks, and then leers. “Want to make those dreams a reality?”

“Uh. _Yes_!” Jason says enthusiastically, staring at Dick with obvious hunger.

“My room. Now.” Dick groans out, grabbing Jason’s left hand, dragging him inside and up the stairs.

The second they make it into Dick’s bedroom, Jason grabs Dick by the hips and walks him backward into the closest wall. Dick makes a little oof noise as his back hits the wall, and Jason crowds him there, using his advantage in height to keep him there. It’s the exact same pose he held him in the first time they met, Dick’s thighs bracketing his, and just as warm as back then.

Dick’s hands come up to cup the back of Jason’s biceps, and Jason leans in, his forehead barely touching Dick’s as he pushes his left hand up from Dick’s waist, up his stomach, feeling as the muscles there under Dick’s smooth skin quiver under his fingertips. He raises his hand higher, up the crevice between Dick’s pecs, catching on the odd scar, and finally, finally uses his hand to cover the handprint on Dick’s throat. His hand tingles, the warmth of Dick’s skin suffusing Jason with a feeling he doesn’t have a name for. It’s gentle electricity, and Dick gasps at the same time Jason does. It’s like a circuit finally closing, a connection between the two of them being finally, fully, made. 

Jason can almost hear Dick’s heartbeat in his ears. Their breathing is in sync, and all Jason wants is to merge himself with Dick. He pushes his right hand between Dick and the wall, dragging him closer in and up the slightest bit. Dick moans at the extra contact, and the heat from his erection presses against Jason’s hip like a siren call. Jason pulls himself out of his trance enough to look at Dick properly. He takes a second to appreciate just how perfectly his hand fits onto the soulmark, before kicking himself, because _of course_ it does. Dick strains a little against the hold, desperately trying for a kiss, but Jason keeps his lips just out of reach, in the hottest game of keep away he’s ever played. 

“Jason...” Dick moans, biting his lip in frustration or anticipation, Jason’s not sure which, but the action makes Jason’s cock twitch and perk up in anticipation.

“You want something, Face?” Jason says quietly, knowing his breath must be brushing on Dick’s cheeks the same way his is brushing on Jason’s.

“Please...” Dick whispers, eyes wide and staring at Jason with true devotion shining in them. “Please kiss me.”

Jason lets his lips brush over Dick’s, and the sensation is unlike any other he’s ever experienced. It feels like coming home, the taste of Dick’s lips and the way he’s clutching at Jason’s back, trying to get as close as possible, even rising up onto his toes to bridge the height between them to kiss him deeper and deeper.

“Damn, Dickie.” Jason says as Dick breaks the kiss to stare up at him with dark lust addled eyes.

“Bed. Now.” Dick says, breathily, pushing Jason back.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re really bossy?” Jason says helplessly amused at Dick positioning him how he wants him.

“Yes. My team. All the time.” Dick pushes Jason back more, and then pulls him over to the bed, pushing him down and climbing into his lap. “But you love it.”

“You know, I kinda do?” Jason shrugs. It’s nice to know that Dick will stand up to him even at moments like these at least.

“Called it.” Dick wraps his arms around Jason’s neck, kissing him deeply, and pulling himself further into Jason’s lap with each kiss. The weight of Dick on Jason’s lap is grounding him, making him feel secure in his place here. 

“This is great. Amazing, perfect even.” Jason gasps when Dick leans back for air. “But I wanna touch your skin, Face.”

“You want me to strip?” Dick says, eyes wide with delight, and smile even wider on his face.

“Fuck _yes_!” Jason nods, enthusiastically, and Dick bounces on his lap a little in joy.

“Your wish is my command.” Dick giggles, reaching up behind his neck and pulling his sweater and shirt up over his head in one quick, smooth motion. Jason’s hands sweep over Dick’s newly bared skin, feeling the ridges of old scar tissue, and the large patches on unblemished tan skin move over hard muscle.

“You’re beautiful. How did I luck out to get you of all people?” Jason wonders, letting his fingers trail over Dick’s abs, and watching as Dick shudders in pleasure.

“Funny.” Dick says gently. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“Yeah?” Jason looks at Dick’s earnest face, and feels his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah.” Dick nods, leaning in to kiss Jason again, wrapping his arms around Jason’s shoulders once more. 

“In that case, lemme get out of my clothes too.” Jason mumbles against Dick’s lips.

“Oh.” Dick breathes, leaning back, sounding a little disappointed.

“Oh? What oh?” Jason says, wondering what’s up. 

“No. It’s... just. Nothing, never mind.” Dick dismisses it, smile turning wry for a second. 

“Dickie.” Jason says, deciding not to let Dick get away with clearly lying to him.

“That jacket...” Dick says, finally blushing and biting his lip again. “I have _thoughts and feelings_ on that jacket.”

“You... Like my jacket?” Jason says hesitantly, hoping he’s right, because he loves this jacket, and he really doesn’t want to ditch it.

“Yeah...” Dick nods, breathing heavily. “Can you keep it on?”

“...Just for you, Face.” Jason grins, all too happy to do that. He lets his hands drop down to Dick’s waistband, undoing his flies and watching with amazement as Dick lifts up off his lap to pull his pants down, leaving him bare to the mid thigh. Jason stares for a moment, thinking of the last time he saw those naked thighs. He grips Dick under the ass and flips him over onto his back, crawling between Dick’s legs and pulling his pants off the rest of the way.

“Woah...” Dick mumbles, a smile spreading on his face. “You’re lucky I like being manhandled.”

“Oh yeah?” Jason grins down at Dick, spread out below him like the best dream Jason’s ever had.

“Yeah.” Dick says, flushing a dusky pink down to his nipples, and Jason has the urge to bite them, gently, just to see if Dick likes it.

“Called it.” Jason says and feels a gentle warmth fill his chest when Dick laughs out loud.

“You’re too far away.” Dick says grabbing his jacket’s lapels to pull Jason down on top of him.

“Not anymore.” Jason presses a quick kiss to Dick’s throat, right in the centre of his mark. “So how do you wanna do this?”

“Hmmm. However you want. I like it all.” Dick says, and while that’s nice for Dick, it’s not narrowing down the options for this moment right now.

“Good to know.”Jason says instead of giving his real thoughts. But it does let him ask for something he’s been thinking about since they met. “Can I uh... between your thighs?”

Dick laughs, and kisses Jason again. “You want to get in there huh? What happened to _pantsless wonder_?”

“This did.” Jason says, tapping the palm mark.

“Hell yeah, you can get between my thighs.” Dick leans over to his bedside table and pulls out a tube of lube, offering it to Jason after he spreads some on his palm, before slicking the tender skin of his inner thighs up. “All ready for you, Jay.”

Jason doesn’t even bother to undo his flies, he shoves his jeans down his thighs, slicking his bobbing cock up quickly before crawling over Dick to pin him down to the bed. His left hand finds its way to the mark, and the tingle of their connection makes everything that much better. Dick inhales as Jason slides his cock between his slick thighs. It’s like all those dreams he’s had, only a thousand times better because this is _real_. It’s all wet, tight, electricity as he pumps himself between the grip of Dick’s powerful thighs.

“Fuck, Dickie, you feel so good.” Jason mumbles into a kiss, and Dick’s breath hitches, his fingers scrabbling along the back of Jason’s jacket.

“Jay... Oh damn, I never thought this would feel good.” Dick gasps. “I mean I want you inside me, but this is _hot_!”

“Shit, don’t say that... How the fuck am I supposed to resist _that_?” Jason rocks his hips harder, feeling Dick’s hard cock bump against his stomach, grinding in and down to give Dick a bit more stimulation.

“You aren’t?” Dick laughs, pushing his hips up against Jason. “Oh god, you’re going to get me all messy, aren’t you? It’s going to drip down my legs...”

“ _Fuck_...” Jason groans loudly, picturing it in vivid technicolour.

“I’ve heard the Robin’s A Slut jokes... Don’t look at Robin’s legs or you’ll see the come dripping down his thighs.” Dick moans. “But, oh! I’ve never had that happen to me. You’re going to be my first, Jay!” Jason slams his hips against Dick’s thighs, letting out a groan as the pleasure and Dick’s words get the better of him. He comes hard and perfect, hot liquid splashing against Dick’s hole when he pushes in deep. Dick makes a high-pitched sobbing noise, and Jason shakes off the stupor of a great orgasm to grip his hips, pulling Dick up higher into his stomach. 

Dick’s cock rubs against his stomach, and Jason helps him grind, not even caring that his t-shirt is going to be ruined any second now. He squeezes Dick throat gently, and feels him seize under him, fingers grabbing at his jacket hard.

“Oh Jason!” Dick cries out despite Jason’s grip on his throat, and Jason can feel the pulsing of his cock as Dick comes too, going limp in his grip and panting loudly when Jason lets go of his neck.

“Damn, Dickie.” Jason pants, rolling over onto his back and grinning when Dick rolls with him to rest his cheek on Jason’s chest.

“Hnngh.” Dick moans, shivering slightly. “I can feel it _dripping_ down my legs.”

“Shit, hang on let me grab you some tissues.” Jason reaches out blindly to the bedside table hoping his hand will knock on a box of tissues.

“I didn’t say I don’t like it.” Dick shifts to look up at Jason, fingers barely touching his soulmark. “I actually kind of _do_? I mean, I wouldn’t want to, like, run around rooftops like this, but uh, at home in bed? Fuck yeah. It feels like you _own_ me.”

“Really? ‘Cos it feels like we belong to each other.” Jason says, staring into Dick’s eyes; and feeling like he’s finally started falling so deep in love with him, the way he’d been so scared to when they first touched. But it doesn’t scare him anymore. It feels far too right. Maybe the universe really _is_ onto something here with the soulmarks after all.


End file.
